


Blood // Water

by vaderfanatic



Series: Blood // Water [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Established Relationship, Graphic Description, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Erwin Smith, Right Hand Man Levi, Torture, dad!eruris, historia is erwin's biological daughter, if you are a fan of floch i'm sorry, mafia murder husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderfanatic/pseuds/vaderfanatic
Summary: “You’re fuckin’ forty, and she’s what, twenty?” Floch spat, each word like a knife fraying Levi’s patience even further. “You sick fuck, you think you’re special because you’re fucking the boss’s daughter?!”“You disgusting piece of shit, she’s my daughter!” Levi snarled.**Alternatively, Levi loses control.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Series: Blood // Water [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117271
Comments: 35
Kudos: 303





	Blood // Water

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from blood // water by grandson. I recommend playing that while reading because that was all I listened to while writing this.
> 
> FINAL CONTENT WARNING: 
> 
> Graphic descriptions of blood, gore, torture, and character death. If any of these things makes you squeamish, please don't read.

A sickening _crack_ of a bone forcefully broken echoed throughout the empty, massive parking garage. Disappointingly, the screams had died out a _long_ time ago. Perhaps it was because his victim was in shock, or perhaps it was because he simply had no energy left, but Levi didn’t care. Truthfully, he’d been waiting a _very_ long time for this. And, well, he still gained at least _some_ satisfaction from seeing the exhausted, sweaty red head in front of him gasp for air, wheezes and sobs of pain escaping his throat.

Levi stepped back with a grimace when Floch turned in his chair, struggling against the ropes tightly restraining him to the chair, and dry heaved. If any body fluids got on his new, luxurious deep navy suit, he was going to be _pissed_.

Slowly, he circled the chair, the heels of his oxfords the only other sound aside from Floch’s choked breaths. His victim was an absolute mess, shirt drenched in sweat and red hair, usually styled with stiff gel, falling in his eyes. If Levi wasn’t enjoying himself so much, perhaps he’d be more disgusted by the stench… But this was a _long_ time coming and he’d be damned if he didn’t milk every possible second out of it.

“You know what I want, Floch,” Levi commented casually, as if he were discussing some mundane topic. In a way he _was_ because this was simply another day at the proverbial office for him. Though of course, this was a bit more exciting than usual. “And sooner or later, you will give it to me. Why delay the inevitable?”

Floch, now hunched over in the chair, straining against the rope as he fought to catch his breath, managed a shaky chuckle. “Go to hell.”

Levi clicked his tongue in exaggerated disappointment and reached forward with leather gloved fingers to grasp a good chunk of red hair, cruelly yanking it back. The wince of pain on the fucker’s face was almost enough to make the corner of his mouth twitch, but he managed to keep his calm, yet somehow bored expression expertly schooled on his face. “Oh, Floch…” He tightened his fingers further, enjoying the sight of Floch’s pained grimace.

Without another warning, Levi swung his fist toward the younger man’s face, the force behind the punch connecting with his cheek almost making him let go of the oily locks in his grip. Floch groaned in agony and spat out a tooth, his chest huffing for breath again. _Beautiful_. Levi tilted his head to the side the slightest bit, as if studying him with particular interest. “… I could tell you that this is just part of my job… No hard feelings, business as usual, but I’d be lying.”

Suddenly, he let go of his hair, throwing Floch’s head forward like a ragdoll’s and circled the chair again. Levi ignored the mix of satisfied and vaguely appalled looks on the faces of his audience. He was in his element now, focused on his mission, his purpose, his _revenge_. He’d been given permission to do whatever he wanted (without killing), and damn it, he was going to take every advantage of it. Besides, the still green foot soldiers needed to see how Levi worked for educational purposes… And a warning.

He crouched in front of the chair, peering up at the other man’s sweat, tears, and blood-soaked face with a raised eyebrow. The silence hung there, suspended. Even Levi nearly felt the need to hold his breath so he wouldn’t break it despite how damn _fun_ this was. “You still with us, Floch? Don’t want you passing out before we get to the fun bits.” Floch finally had that _look_ , the one of a man that was _so_ damn close to breaking.

“Where’s the money?” He asked softly, bending his head a little to capture Floch’s half-lidded, unfocused gaze. The red head let his head hang there, his eyes fluttering and breath wheezing as he fought to stay conscious. Perhaps Levi went a bit too far with that last punch, but it was hard to feel guilty after all of Floch’s crimes, and worst of all, his betrayal. If anything, Levi was disappointed this was taking longer than normal, but he had to give credit where credit was due – the man was resilient. Losing him was almost a pity… But it wasn’t like the FDF was losing much of an asset anyway. 

When he failed to answer, Levi sighed and stood back up, holding out his hand and wiggling his gloved fingers impatiently. A switchblade was held out to him and he took it without acknowledgement, instead flicking the blade open and inspecting the glinting silvery steel closely. He circled the chair again, slower than before, his dark gaze eventually sliding to Floch’s slumped form. He couldn’t help it; Levi had been waiting for this day for _so_ long, had dreamed about exactly what he would do to the pathetic asshole to make him feel an ounce of the pain Levi had suffered. This _had_ to be savored properly.

The only thing that would be better was if he could kill him.

“Floch,” Levi began conversationally as he twirled the blade expertly between his fingers. “This would be so much easier – and faster – if you fessed up already.” He stopped behind the other man and leaned close to his ear, ignoring the odor of sweat and _fear_. Lightly, he dragged the tip of the switchblade along Floch’s forearm, the blade sharp enough to leave small beads of blood. His low hiss of pain was music, sweet music. “But truthfully, your stubbornness in dragging this out is the highlight of my fucking life. By all means, keep your mouth shut.”

Levi pulled away and circled back to the front, his ears perking at a barely audible mumble. “Speak the _fuck_ up, asshole, unless you want me to fuck up your fingers.” He even leaned forward a little in an effort to hear better, looking at Floch expectantly, twirling the knife again.

The man didn’t speak, and under normal circumstances, Levi would be happy to wait. Patience was crucial when getting information, along with knowing just how far to push to get it. But dammit, Levi had shit to do that night and he’d been looking forward to it all day. He leaned forward a bit more, bending at the waist in an effort to catch his eye.

That was a mistake.

Suddenly rearing up, the red head spat at him, a bloody glob of saliva landing on Levi’s cheek. Too stunned to move, to speak, to fucking _think_ , Levi stood there, blinking at the other man. _Did that really just happen—?_

The spell was broken when Gunther wordlessly held out a silky handkerchief. Rather than reach for it, Levi slowly lifted his gloved fingers up to wipe the bloodied spit from his cheek, looking down at his fingers and cocking his head to the side as he rubbed it between his fingertips, as if mockingly inspecting the texture of it.

He let his hand fall limply to his side, staring at Floch for another long moment before allowing himself a rare small, amused smile. “Fingers it is, then.”

He reached over and plucked the still offered handkerchief and methodically wiped his fingers, studying the defiantly staring man in front of him. He’d successfully done what very few of his victims had done before – get under Levi’s skin. He _hated_ being filthy, _hated_ the feeling of germs crawling on his skin and now he’ll have to spend twenty fucking minutes rubbing his face raw if he ever hoped to feel remotely clean again.

But Floch would never know that.

“Open up.” Without warning, Levi shoved the handkerchief into Floch’s mouth, ignoring his grunts and growls of protest. He grasped Floch’s left index finger and held it down firmly as he mercilessly jabbed the tip of the switchblade underneath the nail to slowly and methodically pry it off. The muffled screams were enough to allow himself another small smile of satisfaction. Now _that_ was what he liked to hear. He could see renewed tears springing to the other man’s eyes, more gratifying than Levi could have ever hoped for.

“Ready to talk?”

A pained whimper was his answer. Levi sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment. “Oh, Floch,” he sighed, tightening his hold on the other man’s squirming hand even further before stabbing the tip of the blade underneath the nail of his middle finger mercilessly. Floch’s howl of pain echoed throughout the building, causing a few of the new foot soldiers to flinch.

He pried the nail off even slower this time until it was hanging on by the cuticle and then ripped it off with his fingers, the ruby red blood welling from the two now nail-less fingers starting to drip on the chair’s arm. Without pausing, Levi moved onto the ring finger and intentionally split the nail bed in half, earning him another scream of agony. He pried one half off with the knife entirely but only halfway with the other before ripping it off with his fingers again, then cruelly pressed his hand on Floch’s knuckles and leaned on his hand with most of his weight to cause the blood to drip even faster.

Fresh tears mixed with the dirt on Floch’s face and ran down in rivulets. More distressed cries and whimpers escaped his throat, muffled by the handkerchief now completely soaked with saliva and blood. The new soldiers dared to glance at each other uneasily.

Levi ignored them, staring at the sobbing and hiccupping redhead, a tiny bubble of satisfaction welling up in his chest.

“Well? What do you say, Floch?” He asked, reaching up to pull the handkerchief from his mouth. Floch sputtered and coughed, even dry heaved a few more times, but he still managed to shake his head and glare at Levi.

_Stubborn bastard._

If Levi wasn’t so _annoyed_ , he’d probably be impressed with Floch’s endurance. If anything, it was something to learn from, and he resisted the urge to glance at the new foot soldiers. There would be plenty of time for education later, however.

He sighed again and went to shove the handkerchief back inside Floch’s mouth but clenched his jaw in slight irritation when the man thrashed back and forth, screaming incoherently in protest. Levi grasped the back of his head and held him firmly in place, pushing the cloth back even farther against Floch’s throat, causing him to choke and gag noisily.

Without warning, Levi flipped the blade in his hand backwards and unceremoniously stabbed it into Floch’s thigh, the handkerchief doing little to muffle Floch’s _loud_ wail of anguish.

“I don’t think you realize the position you’re in, asshole,” he murmured, maneuvering with a ruthless twist to drive the blade deeper into the muscle. He pushed on the end of the handle with the heel of his palm, smirking just a bit wider from the second shriller shriek of pain – and at the sight of the other man’s bloodied jeans. “You’re just a means to an end, a _shortcut_. If you don’t tell me, then I’ll kill you and we’ll find where you put the cash anyway.”

Levi gave the knife one last twist and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “but if you _do_ tell me, we might be able to make a deal.” That last part wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but sometimes asking for forgiveness was easier than permission. Besides, his employer trusted him implicitly; after all, in all his years with the FDF, Levi Ackerman was the only man who had a consistent track record for getting information from even the most tight-lipped individuals. It was partially why he’d risen through the ranks so quickly to the boss’s second-in-command…

Among other, lesser relevant, reasons.

This man, however, was a mere foot soldier, a lackey, and not much else. He did his job well enough but didn’t have the potential for promotion like some of his cohorts. Underestimating him had been their _first_ mistake, and ever since Levi discovered it, there was no way in hell he’d ever let it happen again. Not while he was still breathing. The FDF was his family, and family always came first.

After a long moment, a muffled grunt escaped his throat.

_Bingo._

“Ready to talk?” He asked, straightening to his full height and settling a hand on the back of the knife. He looked at Floch calmly, waiting for it.

Finally, the red head nodded, clearly fatigued and almost beyond coherency. Levi reached up to pluck the now stained and ruined handkerchief out of the man’s mouth. Thank fuck he was wearing gloves. “Talk.”

“R-riverside apartments,” Floch wheezed, his voice hoarse and barely coherent from overuse.

“Unit number?” Levi murmured, adding just a bit of pressure onto the knife as a warning, more dark red blood squelching out of the now raw, nasty stab wound. Floch bit back a sob, his face a mess of tear-tracked dirt, blood, and spit as he tried to lean away in a feeble attempt to get away from the knife.

“1F… U-under the floorboards,” he bit out, still gasping for breath and letting his head hang forward from fatigue, or perhaps shame. “I-I haven’t given it to him yet—just _please_ no more—”

“Hush,” Levi shushed him. “Petra.” Funny, how even the riskiest plans often paid in dividends for them, chief among which being kidnapping a valuable spy of a rival mob and torturing for information about money he’d stolen from the FDF under orders of the Warriors’ boss.

Or perhaps not so funny, knowing their boss’s love of taking risks.

“On it,” the sweet-looking, yet incredibly dangerous, blonde said. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed a number before breaking away from the group, speaking lowly. Levi simply stayed put, studying his still gasping victim with half-interest.

No more than ten seconds later, Petra ended the call and walked back over to the group, brushing past Oluo and Gunther in the process. “The information checks out,” she informed him. Levi merely nodded and grasped the switchblade’s handle, pulling it out with a merciless yank and ignoring Floch’s pained keening. “Fuckin’ pathetic,” he muttered. He pulled out his own handkerchief to clean the blood off of the knife before dropping the cloth to the ground and stuffing the weapon into his trouser pocket.

“Untie him, we’re—“

“You still aren’t done yet?”

 _Shit_. He gestured for Petra and Oluo to wait, already having been halfway through the first of Floch’s bindings. “We’re just finishing up,” Levi said, turning to watch Historia approach with a disapproving frown. _Why the hell did he send her, of all people?_

She was no stranger to this life, or what he did for their organization, but he – and her father – have gone through great lengths to protect her as much as possible, especially given how high profile she was as the sole heir to a multi-million-dollar mob organization. She was going to inherit it eventually and she already heavily involved while not in school or studying, but Levi couldn’t help but still feel somewhat protective over her. With one glance at Ymir trailing a step or two behind, it seemed he wasn’t alone in the sentiment.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at Ymir. She merely shrugged and rolled her eyes in response, her hands stuffed in her leather jacket as she stood closely beside her girlfriend, eyeing Floch cautiously.

“We’re going to be late,” Historia pointed out, sparing the still gasping and groaning red head a single, uninterested glance. The sight of her bright blue eyes, intelligent and shrewd beyond her years, made Levi’s heart constrict with tenderness. To say he’d go to whatever lengths necessary to protect her would be an understatement, especially with her looking so determined and strong – just like her father. “He’s getting impatient.”

 _Fucking Christ._ Levi rolled his eyes. It wasn’t aimed at her (he was rarely cross with her anyway simply because it was almost impossible), but her father was another story. “He can wait another five damn minutes.” He looked down at his hands and held back a slight grimace at the mess. There was no way the leather could be salvaged at this point. He tugged them off and handed them to Gunther to destroy later, lightly flexing his fingers. At least they didn’t look bruised from all of the beating, but they were a bit sore.

Historia shook her head, smiling as she walked closer to him and leaning up to peck his cheek affectionately. “Hurry up.”

Even while working, Levi was helpless where she was concerned. He gave her a nod and placed a hand on her back, gently guiding her back toward Ymir. “Get back to the car, I’m almost done.”

She turned to flash him another smile and he nodded in return, watching her leave with Ymir trailing after her. He was pleased Ymir was around; aside from himself and Historia’s father, there was no one he trusted more to protect her… Especially in their line of work.

When they’d finally left, Levi turned back to the job at hand, casually sliding one hand in his trouser pocket. “We’re done here. Dump him on the other side of the city somewhere.” He checked his watch and swore under his breath – Historia was right, he was definitely late, but it was worth it. He only wished he could kill the bastard, but it wasn’t up to him.

Floch was conscious, but barely, wheezing and groaning every time he was jostled around. Levi watched on, disinterested and glancing at his watch. This had taken longer than he thought it would, but it was worth the wait.

“… That’s how you did it…”

Levi’s gaze snapped to Floch’s face, an eyebrow raising quizzically. “The hell are you talking about, fucker?”

“Always wondered how the fuck you rose in the ranks so fast—” Floch groaned in pain as he was lifted by Eld and Oluo, leaning on them heavily as he struggled to stand on shaking legs. “Now I – _fuck_ – get it.”

“Shut up.” Levi impatiently checked his watch again. He wanted to leave and finally be done with work for the night, but he at the very least needed to wait to ensure Floch was secured in the transport first. He sincerely doubted he could put up a fight at this point, but Levi’s survived in this business because he never took any chances, no matter how slim.

Floch laughed, the sound labored but nonetheless mocking. “You’re with your boss’s daughter, aren’t you?”

What the _fuck_.

Ignoring the looks of amusement from his squad and the mixed looks of revulsion and shock from the new soldiers, Levi smiled icily. He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms, walking slowly and methodically until he was standing right in front of the limp redhead. “The fuck you just say, shithead?” Levi murmured softly, dangerously, as he reached up to once again yank his head up with a fistful of hair.

Floch stared back at him, his eyes glaring back challengingly, as if he didn’t just suffer through hours of torment. In another life, Levi might have let him go, or maybe even allowed himself to feel impressed, but he was just _barely_ hanging onto his last bit of patience, as thin as spider’s silk.

“You’re fuckin’ forty, and she’s what, twenty?” Floch spat, each word like a knife fraying Levi’s patience even further. “You sick fuck, you think you’re special because you’re fucking the boss’s daughter?!”

His final thread of patience _snapped_. To _hell_ with following orders, this just became personal.

Levi reached out with viper-like speed, grasping Floch’s neck with a brutal, unforgiving squeeze. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he stared furiously into Floch’s widened eyes, a low growl of rage escaping his throat. All of Floch’s bravado and confidence – gone in an _instant_ , replaced with true, unabashed terror, the likes of which he didn’t show until now. _This_ was fear in its raw, naked form, where his life was quite literally held in Levi’s hand. If he wasn’t so livid, nearly shaking with outrage, Levi would have smiled at the sight.

Floch tried to claw at Levi’s fingers in an attempt to make him let go, but it only made Levi tighten his grip further until the other man gurgled from pain and the lack of oxygen. Levi waved for Eld and Oluo to step away as he held Floch up, the toes of his shoes brushing against the concrete ground.

“You disgusting piece of shit, she’s my daughter!” Levi snarled, rearing back his arm and tossing him against a nearby stone pillar with a dull thud. Floch cried out in pain, his head lolling to the side as he panted for the breath he’d been denied for a good ten seconds. Levi ignored the small gasps of surprise from the newer soldiers. His relationship with the FDF’s boss wasn’t well-known for multiple reasons, but given how they’d interacted, he wasn’t necessarily surprised Floch misunderstood the bond between him and Historia.

Still, Levi drew a _hard_ fucking line when it came to shit being said about the little girl he’s helped raise over the last seventeen years, ever since he married her father. 

Levi briskly walked over and swung his leg forward, his foot connecting with Floch’s skull in a hard blow that was _sure_ to cause a concussion — or at the very least, one hell of a headache. Yet even after all of that, Floch groaned as he tried, and failed, to lift himself up. After being beaten and tortured for so long, it was about fucking time for his body to finally give out.

Kneeling down, Levi yanked Floch’s head by the hair to face him, smiling cruelly at his glazed over eyes. “Go to hell,” he spat while shoving his hand in his pocket to pull out the switchblade and flicked it open. Quickly and efficiently, he slashed a deep gash along Floch’s throat, not even flinching when small spatters of blood got all over his face, hands, and suit and watching him struggle for breath with blatant satisfaction… Until finally, he went limp.

Letting go of the red hair, Levi stood and glanced down at him in mild disgust, but it had been worth it. He looked back up, glaring at the still shocked expressions of the newcomers. “Clean that shit up.”

As they hurried to comply, Levi took his handkerchief back out from his pocket and did his best to wipe the blood from his face and hands, grimacing as a bright crimson stain remained on his skin. He needed a shower, his suit was beyond all hope, and he definitely disobeyed his orders, but it was worth every fucking moment. “Once you take care of it, go home,” he muttered, his shoulders drooping in sudden, almost overwhelming fatigue.

It had been a long night.

Without another word, he turned on his heel to leave the building they were currently using as headquarters (at least, until the _actual_ building they used was finished with renovations). A line of high-end, glossy black sedans waited, headlights shining in the darkness of the moonless midnight. He paused and once one passenger door opened, walked over and slid inside with a quiet sigh.

“I didn’t know someone could bleed so much from a mere beating.”

“Tch,” Levi scoffed and glared at the man in the other seat beside him as he slammed the door shut, the force of the _thud_ making the well-built sedan shudder. “Don’t you fucking start with me.” He curled his lip a little in disgust as he pulled off his bloodied suit jacket, laying it on the floor. Another suit ruined.

Erwin peered at him over the thin rim of his reading glasses, his eyes narrowed in mild disapproval. “I believe I specifically told you _not_ to kill him.” The thick folder in his lap jostled as the sedan started to move, but the blond merely tightened his hold on it as he continued to stare at Levi, waiting for an explanation.

“Yeah well, if you’d waited five more fucking minutes I wouldn’t have had to.” Levi crossed his arms and scowled at the passing streetlights. This was _not_ how he envisioned the night would go, and he’d had such high hopes. Now all he wanted to do was go home, shower, and have some tea.

He could _feel_ that piercing bright blue gaze boring into the side of his face until finally, Erwin sighed softly. A few seconds of shuffling papers later, his hand settled on Levi’s thigh, rubbing his thumb in slow, soothing circles. “What happened?”

Levi peered cautiously at his husband out of the corner of his eye, unsure if Erwin was annoyed with him, but he only looked concerned. It wasn’t like Levi to defy orders. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s disobeyed an order in the nineteen years he’s worked for Erwin on one hand, all of them for reasons that Erwin later approved of for one reason or another.

“I won’t put up with derogatory comments about my kid. I lost control,” Levi muttered, frowning from the guilt that ate at him incessantly. Legitimate reasons aside, he still violated orders, an unforgivable offense in their line of work. Furthermore, Levi absolutely _despised_ disobeying one of Erwin’s orders in general.

There was a beat of silence and Levi eyed him again, his hackles raised in anticipation of being scolded – though he deserved it.

“Ah.” Erwin lightly squeezed Levi’s thigh affectionately. “In that case, good work.”

Letting out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, Levi inclined his head a little in a nod of acknowledgement, then looked down at his dirtied clothes in disgust. “We need to stop at home so I can change. I’m not sitting in this shit at dinner.”

“Hm.” Erwin squeezed his thigh again, that intense blue gaze studying Levi so thoughtfully and methodically it made Levi arch an eyebrow curiously. _What is he thinking?_ Even after so many years of working together, raising a kid together, and being _married_ , Levi still found it difficult at times to anticipate what Erwin was thinking. Perhaps that was why he was the leader of a massively successful and organized crime empire. “How about we eat in instead? Let the girls have a date night to themselves.”

Perhaps Levi should still be angry at him, or at the very least, irritated. After all, if it weren’t for Erwin’s impatience, their daughter wouldn’t have been insulted and Floch would still be alive. It would certainly make things much easier — Levi couldn’t imagine how Erwin could possibly appease the rival organization at this point, not with one of their top members dead at the hands of the FDF’s boss’s right-hand man. Things have been becoming increasingly tense between the two organizations for awhile… Perhaps this would be the breaking point and the Warriors would finally declare war.

Well, that was Erwin’s problem.

“Fine.” Levi shrugged and turned to watch the passing city lights, the streets of Sina bustling with crowds even though it was almost 11pm at night, with club-goers, partiers, workaholics, and every other person in between. Sina was the city that never slept. Levi could relate to the sentiment; perhaps that’s why he’s always felt at home there. He tuned out everything else, only vaguely aware of Erwin giving new orders to their driver and organizing a small escort team for Historia and Ymir. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust them or doubted in their abilities to defend themselves. Historia had been trained by Levi personally ever since she could walk, and Ymir was one of their most skilled personnel in a skirmish… But it was very necessary, given how high-profile Historia (and her father) were. Call them overprotective, but both fathers had agreed ever since they started dating that even the smallest risk wasn’t worth taking. Not when it came to her.

A short while later, the sedan drove through the gate that guarded their home, a massive mansion that was by far way too much space for their small family, but after so many years, Levi grew accustomed to luxury. Being married to one of the most dangerous (and lucrative) crime bosses in Paradis had its perks. He’d accepted long ago to simply enjoy the life he had.

Another short drive up the driveway later, the sedan stopped in front of the entrance, and Levi wearily stepped out, ruined suit jacket draped over his arm, his limbs as heavy as lead. The mansion was dark – a rarity – but they’d given their housekeeper the night off in anticipation of going to a nice dinner. The reminder that his evening was ruined only served to darken Levi’s mood, but at least he no longer had to keep up his tough, right-hand-man-to-a-mob-boss persona. He’d had enough of that for one night.

Besides, he didn’t need to be anything else but himself with Erwin.

He flipped on a few lights as he made his way to their absurdly large master bedroom with one hand and worked the buttons of his dress shirt open with the other. He studied the white material for a moment in consideration before taking it with him to their bathroom. He might have to soak it for a few days, but he was sure he could get the stains out.

His trousers, however, were another story. He kicked off his oxfords and socks, then curled his lip at his bloodied trousers in disgust. There was no saving them, or his jacket for that matter, so both were tossed in the trash.

Five minutes later and finally under the steady hot stream of the shower, Levi furiously scrubbed at his hands and face, red stained water dripping down onto the stone tile and down the drain until he was pink. Even then, he didn’t stop – _couldn’t_ stop. The sensation of sticky saliva dripping down his cheek and blood splattering over his face and hands made his skin itch and stomach churn with anxiety, Floch’s words swirling tumultuously in his mind like a broken record and only making his growing nausea worse.

_‘You sick fuck, you think you’re special because you’re fucking the boss’s daughter?!’_

Gunmetal eyes fluttered shut and he shook his head slightly, willing the taunting words to cease and clenching his jaw from the sudden fury igniting his veins. _No_ other person got under his skin so thoroughly as Floch had. His self-control, usually stronger than even _Erwin’s_ at times, snapped in an instant.

And Levi had killed him.

Now the secret they had so carefully kept from public knowledge was out – Levi was not merely the right-hand, but the boss’s _spouse_ and the heir’s other parent. The news was bound to spread throughout the FDF like wildfire. Levi wouldn’t be surprised if the Warriors knew by the end of the week. Because of his stupidity, his lack of restraint, his daughter and husband were in even _more_ danger than before. They all were.

And it was his fault.

 _Enough_.

He snapped his eyes open, shoving the intrusive, unwelcome thoughts away as he snatched the nearby shampoo bottle off of the shelf to work his hair into a lather.

What was done was done.

Mixtures of soap and water ran down hard pale muscles in rivulets, his toes in a sea of excess white, foamy suds. The steam of the scalding water – and the weight of what he’d done – sat heavy and suffocating in his lungs, in his gut.

* * *

“Hey, baby.” Erwin offered him a smile from the too-large-for-two-people dove gray couch, knees drawn up and an open file on his lap. He’d changed while Levi was having his mini crisis in the shower, looking less like the leader of a notorious mob organization and more like the domestic, normal man in his late forties most assumed him to be in a dark gray sweatshirt, matching sweatpants and hair free from its usual parted style. “Dinner is on the way, and the kettle should be ready for you.”

Levi gave him a grateful nod and walked past to prepare a cup of tea. He pretended not to see the way Erwin frowned in concern when he curled up on the other end of the couch with the rim of his mug in his grip.

A long moment of strained silence passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Erwin asked quietly, peering at his husband over the rim of his reading glasses.

Levi swallowed a sip of tea and scoffed. “Talk about what? How I threw away fifteen fucking years of work and put us all in even more danger because I couldn’t control my goddamn temper?”

Another long moment of silence, until the file that had Erwin so engrossed was closed and placed on the long black coffee table in front of them, reading glasses set on top. “Levi—”

“Dammit, Erwin!” Levi glared at him over his hand as he took another sip, the usually comforting liquid offering no respite to the increasingly unwieldy, burdensome guilt gnawing away at him like a rabid beast. “I fucked up and you know it!” He snapped his jaw shut and clenched it tightly, his teeth aching for relief from the pressure as he looked away, the sight of his husband nearly unbearable.

Because what he hated the most was that Erwin wasn’t angry with him like Levi was with himself. In an instant, their carefully crafted secret was out. The future ramifications of Erwin’s safety – or God forbid, _Historia’s_ – raged through Levi’s mind like a category five hurricane.

If it had been anyone else who spilled, they’d probably be dead.

The weight of the couch shifted. “Come here.”

Stubbornly, Levi stayed there, scowling at the other wall and gripping his mug so tightly he was almost afraid he’d break it. “Why aren’t you angry with me?” He muttered.

“Levi, come here,” Erwin repeated, more firmly this time that left no room for argument. The tone that Levi had no hope of defying.

A beat passed. Two.

Finally, he sighed heavily and set his cup down on the end table, reluctantly shuffling over into the blond’s awaiting embrace. Levi rested his cheek on Erwin’s chest as strong arms wrapped around him securely.

Gentle fingers carded through damp black hair, patiently waiting as Levi slowly started to relax. Ever since they first fell in love, Erwin had the uncanny ability to alleviate even the worst of Levi’s anxiety, to make the gravity of self-loathing bearable.

The minutes passed slowly until finally, Levi had relaxed enough for Erwin’s liking. The mollifying sensation of fingers stroking his hair and lightly scratching against his scalp eased him until his eyes fluttered in exhaustion. It had been a long night.

“Petra called and told me what happened,” Erwin murmured, his voice a rumble vibrating throughout his chest. “That’s why I’m not angry with you.” His fingers dipped to gently massage along Levi’s shoulders. “I would have done the same thing.”

Levi snorted in agreement and relaxed further, comforted by the familiar touch. Erwin wasn’t necessarily wrong; both of them were extraordinarily professional and in control of their own emotions, especially while working. The job demanded it.

But when it came to their daughter, all rationality ceased to exist. They may be the leaders of a massive mob organization, but they were also a family. Family comes first, always.

“Well, there’s no going back. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of the FDF knows by now.” Erwin leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Levi’s head and tightened his hold around him as Levi tensed up again. “We’ll deal with it, Levi.”

Levi nodded against Erwin’s chest, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat.

They stayed there for an undetermined amount of time, the sound of Erwin’s steady heartbeat almost lulling Levi into a rare doze until he was rudely awakened by Erwin’s phone buzzing on the table. The blond gave him an apologetic smile as he reached forward to check, then gently tapped Levi’s shoulder. “Food’s here.”

Levi moved to allow Erwin to stand up, stretching and yawning tiredly. “What’d you order?”

Erwin tossed him a smile over his shoulder as he walked to the front door. Moments later, he returned with two bags worth of a sushi feast from Levi’s favorite hole-in-the-wall sushi restaurant – and a grin. “Hungry?”

Fuck, Levi loved him. Levi made a beeline for the bags set on the counter and unloaded the styrofoam containers hurriedly while Erwin retrieved two plates. “Fucking starving,” he mumbled, opening one container and popping a spicy tuna roll in his mouth. 

Erwin chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

* * *

They stayed up far later than normal, eating their weight in sushi and watching a shitty action movie that happened to be on demand. Levi knew it was because Erwin wanted to be sure he – they – were okay, but they, like many other naturally worried parents, also couldn’t go to bed until Historia arrived home a few hours later with Ymir in tow. Once the girls disappeared into Historia’s room, Erwin and Levi cleaned up and collapsed into their own bed.

With his head resting on his husband’s chest and leg loosely wrapped around his waist, Levi relaxed fully for the first time that night, and it was all because of Erwin. Sweet, thoughtful Erwin, a man that Levi believed he didn’t deserve but was selfish enough to hold onto anyway.

Fuck, he loved him.

He leaned up to kiss him slowly, leaning into the hand that reached up to cup his cheek.

“Thank you,” Levi murmured against Erwin’s lips.

His husband smiled and lightly stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So what started out with a half-asleep 3am note to myself turned into... This. 
> 
> Listen, there aren't enough Eruri Mafia AUs out there. I had to do something to remedy the situation (and of course put my own twist on things because there's just something about protective dad!levi that hits differently). Side note: I know I didn't adhere to a realistic mafia structure. Sorry not sorry. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This series will be continued. The next installment will be spicy (and not in the way you probably think it'll be). 
> 
> Please, leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed! 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta and best friend, @bardroyisms. Additional thanks to al-khuffash for teaching me how to write torture (lol). 
> 
> Find me on twitter @vaderfanatic!
> 
> (Brownie points to anyone who can figure out what the FDF organization stands for, and yes, it comes from canon material).


End file.
